


long before we both thought the same thing

by katelusive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Dubious Science, Fluffiness, M/M, Smut, Threesome, Time Travel, gratuitous banter as always, i clearly know nothing about time travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katelusive/pseuds/katelusive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had all been so normal, until suddenly it wasn’t.  Hell, Liam had been nervous.  It seemed ridiculous now - to be worried about proposing when there were much more pressing things to feel distressed about.  Like time travel, for instance.</p><p>(Or, the one where 2010 Zayn pays a visit and Liam and Zayn aren't quite sure how to deal with it.  Until they are.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	long before we both thought the same thing

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you SO SUPER MUCH to my beautiful darlings [Toni](http://www.thedimplesinyourback14.tumblr.com) , [Mari](http://www.agapeeeternal.tumblr.com) and [Shifa](http://www.catchjadedreamer.tumblr.com) for all of their help, incredible ideas, beta reads and general willingness to listen to me scream about this at all hours of the day/night. You are the best and I love you to death.
> 
> The ~~blame~~ inspiration for this fic comes from [this anon](http://kate-lusive.tumblr.com/post/122204338927/im-so-conflicted-b-c-what-if-current-zayn-didnt) who BARRAGED me with amazing and painful time travel ziam ideas until I finally snapped and wrote it. Thank you, anon, for sending me on this journey of COMPLETE AGONY, I loved it and you.
> 
> Lastly, I know nothing about time travel. Literally nothing. That said, enjoy :)

The main trouble with having two Zayns, Liam thought, leaning against the brick wall of the apartment building, was that half the time he could barely handle having _one_. Zayn and Liam had found a certain balance over the years – an equilibrium, of sorts, a cycle of give-and-take – that worked for both of them.  But now, without warning, things were unstable, off-kilter, spinning out of control. And Liam was caught directly in the middle of it. 

He fished a lighter out of his pocket, cigarette already resting soothingly between his lips.  The cool night air felt good on his face, calming, and the smoke was going to feel even better in his lungs.  Yeah, he’d promised to quit, but this was – this was extenuating circumstances, okay? 

It’s not every day that you come back from dinner to find your boyfriend – soon to be fiancé, if everything went according to plan, although obviously he was gonna have to postpone things on that front – and a younger black-haired boy red-faced and screaming at each other.  

“Whoa, okay calm down,” Liam had said automatically, stepping between them and putting a mollifying hand on Zayn’s arm. “Who’s –“

And that’s when he started to notice – the younger boy looked _really_ familiar. Like – freakishly so. And he was staring curiously up at Liam, a little smile on his face and his eyes – gorgeous, unmistakable eyes with a little freckle in the left one that sent a jolt through Liam – sparkling with mischief. 

“Wow, _you_ really grew up, didn’t ya?” he said, and Liam jumped back with an undignified little yelp. 

“What the fuck?  What – Zayn? What’s going on?” 

Zayn – the younger Zayn, that is, and what the _fuck_ – stepped forward to follow him and poked Liam in the chest.  “Whoa, nice,” he said admiringly.  “You’ve got pecs of steel.  Can I see?” He reached for the hem of Liam’s t-shirt while Liam just stood there, dazed, wondering when he’d fallen into a dream.

“Quit it!” Zayn – current Zayn – hissed, slapping his younger self’s hand away.  “Hands off!  What’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t shout at me,” younger Zayn pouted. “It’s not my fault that I’m here. I’m the victim. I didn’t ask for this.” 

“Well neither did we!” Zayn snapped, crossing his arms. He glared up at Liam like this was somehow his fault, and Liam held up his hands placatingly. His own voice sounded strangely tinny and artificial in his ears.

“Okay, calm down.  Let’s just – all take a deep breath.  Does someone want to fill me in on what the hell is happening?”

Tiny Zayn – Liam guessed he was probably about eighteen, but god, he looked so young – just shrugged.  “How the fuck should I know?” 

“I was eating dinner, reading a book, and then he was just – _there_ ,” said Liam’s Zayn, looking offended by the mere memory of it.  His brown eyes were an angry mirror image of the other boy’s. It was strange to see them together – they were almost the same size, but Zayn’s hair was a lot longer now, and shaved on the sides.  

Younger Zayn had his hair up in a messy quiff – no bleach yet, that wouldn’t come for a couple of years – with an oversized cardigan and the little star earrings that Liam remembered quite well from sleepless nights back at the X-Factor house.  He swallowed, hard.  Now was _definitely_ not the time to be reminiscing about his past Zayn-centric fantasies. Don’t even go there, Payne.

“Okay, so he was just there,” Liam repeated, trying with little success to think clearly.  “Where?”

“Here,” said past Zayn, gesturing around at their living room.  He flung himself down onto the sofa, shoes and all, and older Zayn gave him a death glare. 

“Feet off the furniture!”  Past Zayn flipped him off, and Zayn turned to Liam, incredulous and fuming.  “Was I really this bratty? Be honest.” 

Liam shrugged, carefully considering his words. “Um.  Well.  You were – I mean – no, of course not, babe.”  Zayn gave him a long, measured look, and Liam smiled weakly, rubbing the back of his head. 

Past Zayn smirked, glancing between the two of them. “So how long has _this_ been going on?” 

“None of your business,” snapped Zayn, rounding on him.

“Actually, I think it’s –“

“Okay, can we try to stick to – the matter at hand, here?  Zayn – _you_ , Zayn, not you – “ god, this was already confusing, and it had only been two minutes – “what’s the last thing you remember before you showed up here?”

“Hmm,” said younger Zayn, hugging his knees to his chest.  “I was trying to sleep. It was really early in the morning. And you –“ he pointed at Liam, “were making an enormous racket in our room, and I said I was gonna throw a shoe at you if you didn’t stop, and you finally left and I fell back asleep and then I woke up here.  I’m not convinced this isn’t a dream, actually.” 

“If it was a _dream_ , we wouldn’t have to deal with it,” Zayn bit off. He looked to Liam with a frustrated, pleading expression, like Liam somehow had the power to reverse this bizarre twist.

“ _You_ should remember this,” said younger Zayn to his older self. “Isn’t that how it works? Otherwise it’d be some kinda paradox, innit? So really you should’ve seen this coming. You should’ve warned him, honestly. That would’ve been the polite thing to do.” 

“I couldn’t warn anyone, because it didn’t _happen_ to me,” Zayn retorted, looking like he might smack himself in the face. 

“Well then you’re probably fucked, because that’s gotta be some kind of – time travel error.  You’re gonna disappear.  We’re both gonna disappear, and it’s your fault!”

“How is it _my_ fault, you little –“

“Zayn,” said Liam, and both Zayns turned on him with identical expressions of exasperation.  

“What?!” they snapped in unison.

Liam gulped – one pissed-off Zayn was hard enough to deal with, two was unthinkable – but he powered through. “Listen.  There’s no use in fighting about it. We just need to – figure out what’s going on here.  So we can fix it.”

Even as he said it, he knew it was completely ridiculous – how were they going to fix this?  It wasn’t like there was some troubleshooting hotline they could call. 1-800-TIME-TRAVEL-HELP. But this situation was bad enough without two Zayns at each other’s throats.  He just needed time to think.  So Liam did what he always did in stressful situations: he delegated.

“Okay, guys.  Here’s what we’re gonna do.”  Both Zayns watched him warily, equally ready to make some sassy comment. Liam swallowed, trying not to show any fear.  If they ganged up on him, he’d be a goner.  He had to act fast. 

“You –“ he pointed at younger Zayn, who looked back up at him skeptically.  “Just stay put. I’m gonna turn on a game for you – look, it’s a brand new version of Xbox, it’s really cool, and there’s a lot of good games out now, I’m sure you’ll like it – “ He flipped on the TV while he talked, tossing young Zayn a controller which he caught easily, eyes fixed on Liam. “Just – don’t move. Stay where you are. And you—“ He pointed at his Zayn – “come with me.”  

Zayn rolled his eyes but let Liam drag him into the kitchen.  “Nice job defusing the situation, Captain America,” he said sarcastically, once they were alone, and Liam grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Can you stop being pissy for one second and talk to me?  What the fuck is going on?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Zayn said, with a tired sigh. He leaned back against the counter. It was getting dark outside, the skyline dimming from pinkish-purple to deep blue, and the fridge hummed a low, soothing tone in the otherwise quiet kitchen.  

“I was sitting in here to eat, and I heard someone moving around – I assumed it was you, obviously, and I asked if you wanted any curry, and –“ he gestured wordlessly, eyes disbelieving. “Well, it wasn’t you. Clearly.  It was him.  Me? Him.  And the first thing he says – can you fucking believe this? Not ‘hi, nice to meet you,’ not ‘what the hell is going on’ – he looks me up and down goes, ‘Wow, nice jumper. You look like Uncle Abed.’”

“Who’s Uncle Abed?" 

“He’s our fucking – he’s _really_ old – look, it doesn’t matter, okay?  It was very insulting!”

Zayn’s jumper _was_ a little elderly, in Liam’s opinion, but it’s not something he would ever _dream_ of saying to Zayn’s face unless he felt downright masochistic.  That explained why the Zayns had gotten off on a bad foot, at least.

“Alright,” said Liam patiently, “so he’s a bit sassy. That doesn’t change the fact that you _r eighteen year old self_ is playing video games in the other room.  We should probably – we need to do something about that, don’t you think?” 

“What’s there to do?” Zayn asked reasonably. “What do you suggest, Payno? Call the X-Files? Fox Mulder can’t save us now. He’s not even real.”

“You’re not helping,” groaned Liam. “Stop joking around. This is serious. What if this is, like – messing things up, like he said?  I mean, this is gonna change things, right?  What if he’s right and – things do start to disappear, or just get weird, or something?”

“If I disappear, you can have all my clothes,” said Zayn.  “Except for my white Supras. Those I would like displayed in a museum.  The signature shoes of Zayn Javaad Malik, former king of pop and current hip hop legend.”

“You think you’re being funny,” said Liam, “but you’re not.  None of this is funny. I’m really freaked out, Zayn. What are we gonna do?” 

The look Zayn gave him was half-caught between amusement and death-glare.  “ _You’re_ freaking out, Leeyum?  I had to deal with that little prick for an hour before you got home.  I sent you like fifty hysterical texts, _none_ of which you answered, by the way –“

“My phone’s dead, I’m sorry –“

“I’m past the point of freaking out, Lee. I’ve, like, transcended it. I don’t know what’s happening, or why, but it’s – it’s happening.  It _is_ happening. Right?  We’re not just having a double hallucination, are we?” 

“I don’t think so,” said Liam slowly. He felt lucid enough. He could trace his steps back through the entire night – phone interview in the car, then a quick stop at the jewelers, dinner with Harry and Lou, where he’d shown them the ring and Harry got a little teary and insisted on ordering a bottle of champagne – then home.

It had all been so normal, until suddenly it wasn’t. Hell, he’d been _nervous_.  It seemed ridiculous now.  To be worried about proposing when there were much more pressing things to feel distressed about.  Like time travel, for instance. Liam suppressed a hysterical little giggle.

“I don’t think we’re hallucinating,” said Zayn. “It’s happening, whether we like it or not, and we just have to – deal with it.  Maybe he’ll be gone when we go back out, who knows.” 

“Maybe,” said Liam, hoping fervently that would be the case.  He was simply not equipped to deal with this.  It would be a million times better for everyone involved if 2010 Zayn had simply disappeared once again.  

But, of course, he hadn’t.  He was sprawled on the couch with Harley curled up happily beside him, gunning down zombies like it was his job.  He looked up with a bright smile when Zayn and Liam entered the room.

“This game is wicked!” he said, eyes sparkling. “The graphics are so sick! God!  What year is it again?”

“2015,” said Liam dumbly, still slightly stricken at the mere sight of him.  Why didn’t any of this seem to bother young Zayn _at all?_ Liam was struggling to hold onto reality as it was, and he wasn’t even the one who had jumped forward in time. His brain kept trying to refute it, write it off as some kind of mad illusion, but it simply couldn’t be argued – he was there, like it or not, 2010 Zayn in the flesh. 

“Dog off the couch,” said Zayn automatically. “Harley, get down.”

Harley gave a pouty little whine, reluctantly extracting herself from younger Zayn’s legs.  “Aw, can’t he stay?” young Zayn whined.  “He likes me.” 

“She, actually,” said Liam.  “That’s Harley.”

“She’s yours?  Ours?”

“Ours,” said Zayn pointedly, gesturing between himself and Liam.  “Our dog. _You_ don’t have a dog.”

“She’s beautiful,” said young Zayn, ignoring his older self.  He paused the game. “So did you figure out what to do with me yet?” 

He was staring up at Liam with a flirty little half-smile, biting his lip, and Liam looked quickly away.  Zayn glared at him. 

“We’re not going to do anything with you.” 

“Nothing at all?” murmured young Zayn, still looking up at Liam through his long, thick eyelashes.  Liam swallowed hard, trying not to stare.  Zayn’s fingers dug sharply into his arm and he jumped. 

“Nothing at all,” Liam said quickly, voice coming out a little squeaky.  “We – we don’t really know what to do, to be honest.  You can stay here tonight, obviously, and then – I guess we’ll just – see where we’re at in the morning.  Does that sound good to you?”  Honestly, he really didn’t want to think past that point. 

“Sounds ace,” said young Zayn. “Your place is brilliant. I guess you guys must be really rich, huh?”

“We’ve done alright,” said Liam, and Zayn shushed him. “What?”

“I just feel like – he shouldn’t _know_ stuff like that, should he?  What if it changes something?  I mean – doesn’t that – let’s just stay in our respective years, okay?” 

To Liam’s surprise, young Zayn shrugged amiably. “Okay,” he said, and turned the game back on.  The room filled with the sound of ejected shotgun shells and dying zombies, and Zayn – Liam’s Zayn – turned to Liam with a pained look. 

“I don’t know,” whispered Liam, before Zayn could say anything.  “I don’t know what to do. Don’t look at me like that.”

“We need a plan,” said Zayn quietly. “I mean, what if he’s – knock on wood, obviously, but what if he’s, like – stuck here?  For a long time?  What are we gonna do?  He can’t stay here, clearly. I’ll kill him.”

“Then you’d really disappear,” murmured Liam, and Zayn gave him a little shove.  “No, honestly, I didn’t know you had so much – self-loathing.  Haha.  Get it?”

“Very funny.  Now who’s the one making situationally inappropriate jokes? We just need – we really need to figure something out, right?  You’re good at that.  You love making plans. Make us a plan.”

“I just need some time to think, okay?” said Liam. Zayn nodded wearily, both hands pressed to his face while his younger self screamed “Bullshit! I got him right in the head!” at the television screen.

Now, outside with a pounding head and an uncomfortable, persistent feeling of unreality, Liam fantasized about just walking away. He’d never do that to Zayn, obviously – plus, Zayn would hunt him down and kill him – but it was such an attractive option.  It almost seemed like the _only_ option. Liam might love making plans, but right now, no matter how long he stared at the rising moon, no plan came to mind. He took a long, thoughtful drag of his cigarette, wishing his phone was charged so he could, like – google what to do. 

Although what would he even search for? “How to reverse spontaneous time travel?”  “Tips on keeping two versions of the same person from getting into a fistfight?” “I was going to propose to my boyfriend tonight but his younger self randomly showed up in our apartment and now there may or may not be a dangerous tear in the space-time continuum?”

Really, Liam thought, stubbing out his cigarette against the wall and tossing the butt into a nearby bin, the key for now was just keeping the Zayns away from each other.  That was the logical thing to do.  They were both manageable on their own.  And nobody knew Zayn better than Liam.  He could definitely wrangle eighteen-year-old Zayn.  But together, the Zayns were terrifying.  Liam didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they stopped fighting and teamed up against him.  He wouldn’t stand a damn chance.

It’s all gonna be okay, thought Liam in the elevator on the way back up to his and Zayn’s penthouse apartment. Just keep ‘em separated. That was the tentative plan. Deal with them one at a time. It might not be foolproof, but at least he felt slightly more prepared.

What this plan did not prepare him for, however, was the scene that met him at the door to the apartment. All of the air whooshed out of Liam’s lungs, and his knees wobbled. 

Zayn – current Zayn, Liam’s Zayn – was sprawled boneless on the couch now, head flopped back against the cushions with eyes closed, and his mouth open in an expression of helpless pleasure Liam knew intimately. And past Zayn – oh god – past Zayn was knelt between his older self’s legs, hands on his bare thighs, shirtless with a mouthful of cock.  Liam watched as Zayn’s tattooed hands clenched in his younger self’s silky black hair, as he stuttered out, “Oh fuck, yeah, that’s good.”  

 _Are you fucking kidding me_ , Liam wanted to shout, but the words stuck in his throat and all he could do was gape at them.   

“Um,” he finally managed to squeak out, swaying against the doorframe.  Zayn – older Zayn – looked over at him, eyes half-lidded and dark. 

“Leeyum,” he moaned, “fuck.  I’m sorry.  Don’t – don’t be mad –“  

Younger Zayn pulled up off his cock with a wet little pop, and looked up at Liam with his eyes sparkling bright and wicked. “He said it’s okay because it’s just like masturbation.  Right, Zayn? Isn’t that what you said?" 

“That’s what _you_ said, you little shit,” breathed Zayn, eyeing Liam with concern. “I’m sorry, Lee, are you –“

“I’m not mad,” whispered Liam, unable to stop staring at them.  They looked gorgeous together – Liam’s Zayn with his long, glossy hair covering one eye, lips swollen red – so they’d been kissing then, Liam thinks wildly – and then his younger self, shirtless with the skin of his back looking soft and maddening, making Liam want to drag his nails down it.  “Fuck,” he said quietly. 

Both Zayns were staring at him now, two pairs of identical dark brown eyes, one shiny and lustful, and the other apologetic and slightly concerned. 

“Should we – “ said young Zayn, and older Zayn nodded. “Come here,” said one of them, voice low and dark like smoky, liquid amber.  Liam nodded, trying to swallow.  He was already hard, which was ridiculous – although, what about this situation _wasn’t_ ridiculous? – and young Zayn jumped up as he approached, grabbing his hand. 

“It’s my fault.  He was telling me,” he breathed, “about the – you know – the kinds of things. That you do.  In bed.”

“Oh was he,” said Liam, trying to shoot Zayn a pointed look, but it didn’t work.  He was already so far gone.  Zayn gave him a little smile and shrugged.   

“Yeah,” said young Zayn.  “He said he – well he knows, obviously, he knows I want to hear it. Do you know that I’ve got the biggest crush on you?  I mean, the other you, the one from – my time, I guess, but – you’re really – fucking fit, now, and it’s quite – do you know that I’m, like, in love with you?”

“Yes,” said Liam, throat dry, letting Zayn tug him towards the couch.  “Yeah, I – I figured it out.  Eventually.”

He sits heavily down next to Zayn – his Zayn, flushed and pantsless with his cock still stiff and leaking – and Zayn leaned over to whisper, “I’m sorry.” 

“I fucking knew you’d do this,” Liam hissed back, overwhelmed.  “I knew if I left you alone for five minutes you’d end up wanting to fuck yourself.”

“Do you blame me?” Zayn retorted. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.”

That’s completely beside the point, Liam wanted to say, but the other Zayn – young Zayn, with his floppy fringe and his dark, wicked eyes – was climbing into his lap, straddling him.  His mouth was very close to Liam’s, and a strong sense of déjà vu washed over him.  

“I, uh, probably shouldn’t,” Liam stammered, but Zayn’s lips were already pressed to his, tongue warm and shy against his lips. He parted them automatically, and Zayn’s body surged gladly against his chest, familiar-but-not, cock rock-hard against Liam’s stomach.  Liam’s hands moved of their own accord to cup his ass, and Zayn moaned into his mouth, a breathy little sound that had Liam grinding up against him, unable to stop himself. 

He didn’t really want to do this – well, he did, obviously, but this Zayn was too young, inexperienced, earnest and heartbreakingly tender, and plus wouldn’t this – mess with their memories, or whatever? But it was too much to think about, especially with Zayn’s tongue in his mouth and fingers creeping up under the hem of his t-shirt.  When Zayn pulled back, Liam could see his Zayn – current Zayn – watching them closely with an impenetrable expression, one hand wrapped loosely around his cock. 

“You feel so good,” said young Zayn wonderingly, hands on Liam’s shoulders.  “God, I’ve spent so much time imagining what that would be like.  To kiss you." 

Liam felt a sharp pang of guilt. “We haven’t kissed yet?”

“No,” said young Zayn.  “Well, kind of.  You kissed me once.  A few weeks ago. But it wasn’t – like this. This is really – wow.”

“Pretty nice, isn’t it?” said the other Zayn, with a semi-sharp edge to his voice.  He pushed his younger self out of Liam’s lap and pulled Liam in for a long, breathtaking kiss.  It was rough and possessive, teeth nipping Liam’s lower lip, and Liam growled into Zayn’s mouth, tangling one hand into his hair.  Zayn pushed back against him, pulling Liam’s hand towards his cock.  He could hear younger Zayn’s startled intake of breath, and it made him pull back. 

“Wait,” groaned Liam, “shouldn’t we – I mean, isn’t this kinda – wrong?” 

“No,” said both Zayns at the same time, staring at him with twin expressions of confusion.  “Of course not,” added older Zayn.  “I know what he wants.  He’d – I would’ve – killed for this.”

“Yeah, he’s right,” breathed younger Zayn, cross-legged at the other end of the couch, staring at them like he’d forgotten how to blink. “I don’t have to, like – I just want to watch. If that’s okay with you, Leeyum.” 

“Yeah, Lee.  If it’s okay with you.”  Zayn gave him a look laced with meaning, playful and dark at the same time, and a maddening thrill of arousal unfurled deep in Liam’s belly. 

“It’s okay,” said Liam, and Zayn leaned in close to kiss him again, one hand twisted in his shirt.  But it wasn’t long before he felt another pair of hands crawling over his back, up under his shirt and making him shiver. 

“Fuck,” he moaned into Zayn’s mouth, as nails dragged gently down his back.  They tugged his shirt off together, and then Zayn – Liam’s Zayn – slid to his knees in front of Liam.  Past Zayn stared at them, lips parted and glistening. 

“Are you gonna –“

“Yeah,” said Zayn, eyebrows raised. “Watch and learn.”

Any misgivings that Liam might’ve had about letting Zayn’s younger self watch them have sex dissolved as soon as Zayn’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes locked on Zayn, a living pornographic art show with his cheeks hollowed and his tongue pink and obscene as he licked slowly up Liam’s cock. 

“Holy shit,” breathed younger Zayn, crowding against Liam’s arm, trying to watch.  Liam could feel his breath, hot and maddening against his ear.  “Do you like that?” he whispered to Liam, voice low and dark, and fuck, if Liam got any harder he would probably just die.

“Yeah,” he murmured, voice choked, trying to keep his eyes open.  “It feels – really fucking good.” 

“Does he – do I – do that for you a lot?”

“Um – oh _fuck_ –“ Liam gasped as Zayn started to bob his head, sucking in earnest, probably trying to keep Liam’s attention focused 100% on him.  Liam wouldn’t put it past him.  “Yeah – a good amount –“

“And you love it, don’t you,” said past Zayn, lips brushing Liam’s earlobe, sending a crazed trail of arousal down his spine.

“Of course he fucking loves it,” mumbled Zayn around Liam’s cock, looking cross. 

“I do,” Liam moaned, tangling a hand in Zayn’s hair as he deepthroated him.  “Oh fuck Zaynie, that’s so – that’s amazing – just like that – don’t stop –“

Zayn sucked him more enthusiastically, and Liam’s fingers clenched in his hair.  He wasn’t going to last long.  It almost wasn’t fair – Zayn had gotten better and better at this over the years, until finally he could get Liam off in about one minute flat.  And of course he’d want to show off.  Liam really should’ve seen this coming.  He could see younger Zayn watching in his peripheral vision but he honestly couldn’t care less, not with Zayn’s tight, wet mouth around his cock driving him closer and closer to the edge. 

“F—fuck— _Zayn—_ “ He came with a muffled shout, fist pressed against his lips and his other hand twisted tightly in Zayn’s long hair.  Zayn pulled off of him slow and deliberate, watching Liam breathe hard with a smug little smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“God,” whispered past Zayn, eyes huge. “You’re really – I’m really – good at that.”

“No you’re not,” said Zayn, standing up and patting him on the shoulder.  “But you will be.” He smirked at Liam, clearly enjoying this a little too much.  Not that Liam would’ve expected anything different from him. 

“That was amazing,” said Liam weakly. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Are you gonna suck him off too?” past Zayn asked. Zayn and Liam exchanged a look.

“If he wants me to,” said Liam. “What do you want, Zaynie?” 

Zayn bit his lip, looking between Liam and his younger self.  “I – I don’t know,” he said, sounding slightly uncertain for the first time since this insane sexcapade began.

“You look like you do know,” said Liam suspiciously. “Out with it.” 

“I want,” said Zayn, “I guess it would be – it would be really hot to watch you.  And him.” 

Past Zayn stared at his future self with his mouth dropped open, eyes wide as saucers.  Liam knew the feeling.  

“What do you mean, watch us?  Watch us do what?”  

“Whatever he wants you to do,” said Zayn softly. He was still fully hard, gently stroking himself as he stood there, watching his past self and Liam on the couch. 

“Um,” said Liam.  “I don’t know if that’s such a good – I mean – he’s so young —“

“I’m eighteen,” said Zayn, affronted, “and don’t pretend like you don’t wanna fuck me, Liam Payne.  You’ve been staring at me since I got here.” 

“That’s true,” admitted the other Zayn, giving Liam a loaded look.  “You have been staring.” 

“Okay, _wow_ ,” said Liam, but Zayn was already kissing him, climbing into his lap. His kisses were nowhere near as shy as before.  This was the Zayn Liam remembered from the old days – wild and unpredictable, reserved but aggressive, a beautiful contradiction. He moaned into Zayn’s mouth, unable to help himself. 

“I know you like that,” said Zayn, the other Zayn, sitting down in the armchair next to them to watch. Liam could see him out of the corner of his eye, stroking himself lazily with one hand as he watches them.    

“You do, don’t you?” asked young Zayn against Liam’s lips, pressing their chests together.  The feeling of skin on skin was pure electricity, and Liam could already feel himself starting to get hard again.  It was strange to see Zayn like this all over again – soft-eyed and tattoo-free, except for the Arabic writing under his collarbone. Liam felt a strange tugging in his chest, a wash of love that left him breathless. 

“Yeah,” he said very quietly, hands locked around Zayn’s back, nipping at his lower lip in the way he’s learned over many years will drive Zayn crazy.  This Zayn, clearly, had never experienced it before, and he gasped into Liam’s mouth, thrusting against him.  He shifts off of Liam’s lap, falling back against the couch and pulling Liam down on top of him.

Liam glanced nervously at Zayn, but he was still watching intently with his cock rigid in his hand, eyes dark with desire. 

“You like this?” Liam asked, and Zayn gave a single nod.  

“Keep going.” 

“I don’t wanna, like –“ 

“You’re not gonna hurt me, that’s silly,” said young Zayn, like he was reading Liam’s mind. Liam looked at the other Zayn with an incredulous expression – were they, like, communicating telepathically or something now? – and Zayn shrugged. 

“This was basically my ultimate fantasy,” he clarified. “Before we got together.”

“What, time traveling five years into the future and getting felt up by my older self?”

“No,” said Zayn, smiling, although his eyes were sharp with want as he watched his younger self press kisses to Liam’s bare chest. “Just – being with you like this. Getting to touch you, having you touch me back.  Feeling your arms around me.”

“I – ah – I used to touch you all the time.” 

“Not like this,” said younger Zayn, gazing up at him with big brown eyes, forlorn and happy all at once, a swirl of complex emotions that gave Liam a little pang of ache in his chest.  “Not like – you are now.  Not like you love me.” 

Older Zayn smiled at his younger self, who reached up to kiss Liam, eyes lingering on his lips. 

“Enjoy it while it lasts, buddy,” said Liam, breaking the strange spell that had fallen over the three of them, heavy and emotionally charged.  Younger Zayn laughed, and gave him a sharp bite on the throat.  Then he gasped as Liam gripped his ass, flipping them over so Zayn was on top. He looked to his older self, who nodded again.

“Take his pants off,” said Zayn. “Tell him to shut up if he says anything. That’s what he wants.”

“But—“ younger Zayn started to say, and Liam pressed a finger to his lips.  He stared up at Liam, eyes wide and far from innocent.  He reached for the button on young Zayn’s trousers, but Zayn had already got them halfway off, shifting on top of Liam to shuck them onto the floor.  His cock was standing up stiff and eager, brushing against his stomach.  

“Fuck,” said Liam without meaning to. 

“Please,” said young Zayn, grabbing Liam’s hand and dragging it to his cock.  He moaned loudly when Liam touched him, wrapping a hand around him.  Liam tried to ignore underlying feeling of guilt – he was taking this moment away from his younger self, wasn’t he? – and focused on stroking Zayn, making him feel good.  He knew exactly what Zayn liked, and he used it to his advantage.

“Oh my god, how the fuck are you doing that,” panted young Zayn, running his hands over Liam’s biceps, forearms, down his chest. Liam shot older Zayn a loaded look, trying to get his approval, but clearly he didn’t need it – Zayn was watching them with his mouth open and jerking himself faster now, eyebrows screwed together in that way Liam recognized as his oh-fuck-don’t-stop face. 

He twisted his hand on young Zayn’s cock, his other arm wrapped around his back to keep him balanced.  He could feel Zayn’s body trembling, the motion of his ass against Liam’s cock stirring a slow burn of arousal in Liam as well. 

“Oh my god Leeyum – I’m gonna –“

“Go ahead,” said Liam, and that’s all it took – Zayn was coming over his own belly and Liam’s hand, a hot splash of cum that kept going for longer than Liam was used to.  His older self was standing now, jerking himself furiously, sweat beaded on his forehead with his hair falling gorgeously in his face.

“Leeyum,” he said, voice broken and desperate, and Liam reached out to grab his cock, but he only got a few strokes in before older Zayn was coming as well, all over Liam’s chest.  They locked eyes, Zayn’s dark and wild, a wordless expression of understanding passing between them – ‘it’s okay, this was okay, I’m okay’.

“I love you,” whispered Liam before he could stop himself, lost in Zayn’s eyes.  Zayn gave him a secret little smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Young Zayn was watching them with interest, still sitting in Liam’s lap.  “That was fucking wild,” he said, reaching out to touch his older self, who stepped backwards out of reach. Liam sat up halfway, stroking young Zayn’s arm, feeling impossibly fond.  Young Zayn leaned heavily against him, and Liam could feel his heart pounding hard. 

“Bathroom,” said older Zayn, pointing at his younger self. “Down the hall. You too, actually,” he said gesturing to Liam. “Show him where it is. Get cleaned up. I’m gonna get the guest room ready.”

“Bossy,” murmured Liam, but he rolled off the couch, motioning for past Zayn to follow him. 

“He is rather bossy, isn’t he?” remarked young Zayn, trailing after Liam like a puppy.  Liam directed him into the bathroom, flipping on the light.

“Well, he’s – I mean – you’re the same person, so –“ 

“ _I’m_ not that bossy,” said young Zayn, wrinkling his nose.  “Actually, as far as I know, _you’re_ the bossy one.  You get in fights with Louis every day about it.”  

“Do I?” Liam said, struggling not to laugh. He’d almost forgotten about that. It was so long ago. But for this Zayn, it was as soon as yesterday.  “Here, why don’t you hop in the shower,” he said, wiping himself off with a clean towel. “I’ll grab you some of Zayn’s clothes you can wear to bed.”

“I’m not _tired_ ,” said young Zayn, “I told you, I just woke up a couple of hours ago –“ but he clambered into the shower anyway, eyes wide as he surveyed the glass and chrome fixtures.  “This is incredible. Are you a millionaire?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about that,” said Liam, wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist and putting another out for Zayn. “Look, shout if you need me, okay? I need to talk to – the other you.” 

“Okay,” said young Zayn through the glass door of the shower, eyes closed with an expression of bliss on his face.

Liam walked back down the hall, stopping in the living room to pull on his trousers.  Zayn was in the kitchen, clothes back on, assembling a chicken sandwich. Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn from behind, dropping his chin onto his shoulder. 

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m making him some food,” said Zayn, gesturing at the cutting board, “I mean, I guess – he’s probably – hungry? I don’t know.  What the fuck are we doing, Leeyum?’ 

He twisted his head around to share up at Liam with his eyes wide and anxious.  Liam shrugged. 

“Winging it, I’d say.” 

“I mean, is that – was that wrong? Doing that with him?” 

“I have no idea,” Liam admitted, watching Zayn slice white cheese for the sandwich with his hands trembling. “I don’t know the morality of it. You’re – I mean, you’re _you_ , and you seemed fine with it –“ 

“I was fine with it,” said Zayn, “but now I’m thinking, like – doesn’t that – change things?  I mean, we didn’t hook up until, like – when was it?” 

“On tour,” said Liam, “2012.  Summer.  Las Vegas.”

“Okay, you obviously remember –“ 

“Palms Resort.  June 9.  11:34pm.” 

Zayn was laughing in spite of himself. 

“Right, so that’s, like – quite a bit after his time, isn’t it?  I dunno. Like, what if we’re messing things up, and we wake up in the morning and everything’s different? What if – I don’t know – what if we’re not –”

He obviously didn’t want to finish that sentence, but Liam could guess what he was going to say.  

“I just don’t understand how this works at all,” Zayn said finally, sounding exhausted. 

“Me either,” said Liam.  “Breaking news: we are not astrophysicists. Do you – I mean, are all your memories the same?”

“I think so,” said Zayn carefully, reaching across Liam to grab a tomato out of the basket.  “I still remember – Vegas.  Being the first time.  The way you kissed my fingers when they were bleeding.”  He looked up at Liam with a strange, soft expression and Liam kissed him, quickly, unable to help himself.  

“I love you,” said Liam.  “Nothing’s gonna change that, okay?  I promise.” 

“Okay,” said Zayn, still looking a little worried. From down the hall came the unmistakable sound of younger Zayn singing his heart out – _Sheeee wears SHORT shorts, I wear teeeeshirts_ – and present Zayn burst out laughing. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said. “This is fucking – insane.” 

“ _I_ can’t believe you liked that song,” said Liam.  “You’re a fucking dork.” 

“You love me, you just said it,” said Zayn with a goofy smile, putting the sandwich on a plate.  “Are you hungry?  Do you want me to make you something too?” 

Yes, Liam was quite hungry, but he found himself unable to answer for a moment, caught in Zayn’s eyes.  It still happened sometimes.  Maybe it would always happen, Zayn’s eyes catching him by surprise, leaving him speechless.  He thought of the ring in the pocket of his jacket, wondering when he would get a chance to use it.  Tonight was supposed to be the night. 

It had taken him literally months of obsessive group texting and secret planning to pick out the perfect ring, design the perfect proposal, and get his nerves under control.  And now – it was so typical.  His big night to shine, and the universe had to throw some crazy sci-fi twist in his face. 

“Sure,” said Liam finally, and Zayn gave him a funny look with a little smile.  

“You okay?” 

“Great,” Liam assured him.  “I mean, this is just – strange.  But I’m okay.”

“I love you, Lee,” Zayn said. “You want a grilled cheese? I got that French kind you like.” 

“Yes,” said Liam instantly, stomach growling. From the shower, young Zayn warbled: _You belong with meeeEEEeeeEEeeeee_ – and present Zayn collapsed against the counter, giggling helplessly. 

“God, was I really – is this really – how I was?”

“Exactly,” said Liam at once. “To a tee.”  

“I have no idea how you put up with me,” said Zayn, shaking his head.  Liam shrugged, smiling. 

“I loved you.” 

“I loved you too,” said Zayn, smiling up at him.

***

Later, with the house quiet and Zayn sleeping beside him, Liam was tempted to pretend that none of it had happened. But there was no denying it – young Zayn was real, and he was sleeping in the guest room just down the hall. Liam had always been envious of Zayn’s talent to sleep on command, and now more than ever.  He’d been awake for hours, tossing and turning, unable to shut off his brain. 

What if things changed?  He’d felt so certain earlier that they wouldn’t, or that they’d be able to deal with anything that went wrong, but now – alone in the dark with his thoughts – Liam wasn’t so sure. 

There didn’t seem to be any way around it. They were changing the past, and so the future would change too.  Nothing felt different – Liam looked at Zayn beside him, familiar and solid, asleep on his side with his hands curled under his chin like a child – but that didn’t mean anything.  What if it took awhile to kick in?  He had no fucking clue how this worked.  

Liam slipped out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt. What he really needed was a cigarette. He would quit when this whole time travel fiasco was over – yes, _when_ it was over, he couldn’t handle the possibility right now that it might be a more permanent fixture.  

He padded barefoot across the dark living room towards the balcony, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. To his surprise, the sliding glass door was already unlocked.  He could see Zayn – the younger Zayn, looking even younger in the moonlight – sitting on one of the folding chairs, smoking with his knees pulled up to his chin.

“Hey,” said Liam softly, sliding the door closed behind him, and Zayn looked up.  

“Hey,” he said, lower lip jutted out. Liam was hit once again with just how _real_ he was – exactly how Liam remembered him, from his compulsive lip-licking to his goofy smile, nervous fingers and the beaded necklace that he would continue to wear until Louis accidentally snapped it play-fighting backstage in Glasgow. 

“You okay?” Liam asked, dragging a chair over beside him.  Zayn exhaled a cloud of silvery smoke with a little shrug.  

“Would you be?” 

“Probably not,” Liam admitted, shaking a cigarette out of his own pack.  Zayn watched him with interest, brow furrowed. 

“You smoke now?”

“No,” said Liam, patting his pockets for a lighter that wasn’t there.  Zayn handed him one without a word, still staring at him with an incredulous little smile. 

“Okay, yes, kinda.  Sometimes.  I’m trying to quit.”  

“How the tables have turned,” murmured Zayn, watching him light up.  

“Things got – a big stressful,” said Liam. “Not that it’s an excuse, but – there was just – there’s been a lot of things to deal with. With the band.”

“So we’re still a band, then,” said Zayn, watching Liam with undisguised interest.  

“Shit,” Liam said.  “I’m not supposed to tell you, am I?”  

“Who cares, at this point?” said Zayn. “I’m here.  We hooked up, for fuck’s sake.  If things are gonna turn out different, it’s already too late to stop it.” 

Liam watched him, clear-skinned and devastatingly fresh, eyes very dark in the moonlight.  “I guess you’re right,” he said finally.  “Yes, we’re still a band.  Kind of. It’s complicated.”

“And so – you and me – we’re, like – together?” 

“Yes,” said Liam, smiling at the way young Zayn’s face lit up.  “Very much so.” 

“That’s incredible,” Zayn murmured, dropping ash over the edge of the balcony.  “I thought – I mean – it just seems like you’re never gonna want me. Is that weird to say?”

“No, not at all,” said Liam.  “I – listen, Zayn, just give him some time, okay? Or, me, I guess. I don’t know if I should be telling you this.” 

“No, please,” Zayn said instantly. “Please tell me. I actually – I’ve been trying really hard to get over you, to be honest.  I’m miserable.”  

“I’m sorry,” said Liam automatically. “What’s going on?” 

“Well, you fucking kissed me, for one,” Zayn said, eyes on the dark horizon, the jagged cityscape with a blanket of stars spread out above.  “That’s what’s going on. You kissed me when I got back from the funeral, and then – nothing.  You’re acting like it never happened.  You’re talking to that fucking – that dancer.” 

“Danielle?” Liam asked, and winced at the way Zayn’s mouth set in a grimace.  

“Yeah,” he said softly.  “I mean, what’s your – what’s your deal, Payno? I can’t figure you out.”

“Me either,” Liam admitted.  “I was confused.  But I probably – I don’t think I should tell you anything, Zayn.  You have to just – live it, I think.” 

“But we end up together, don’t we? Me being here isn’t gonna change that, right?”

“No,” said Liam, hoping to god it was the truth. He felt a resolve building in his chest – he wouldn’t _let_ it change anything. He would hold them together with his sheer force of will if he had to.  No matter what.  Before he realized what he was doing, he had taken the little box out of his pocket, playing with it.

“Keep this between us, okay?” he said softly, and Zayn watched him with interest.  

“Is that –“ 

“Yeah,” said Liam, opening the box to show him. It was just a simple band, different from the chunky rings Zayn normally wore, but – Liam hoped – beautiful and elegant in its own, unique way.  Just like Zayn. Young Zayn’s mouth dropped open, cigarette burning forgotten in his hand.  

“Holy shit,” he breathed.  “You’re going to – you’re gonna propose?  To me?”

“Yeah,” said Liam, with a rueful little chuckle. “I was gonna do it tonight, actually. Can you believe that? I had this whole thing planned out. But then – well, you know.”   

“Wicked,” said Zayn, staring at the ring. 

“Do you – do you like it?” Liam asked before he could help himself, feeling like he was cheating.   He probably shouldn’t be having this conversation at all with Zayn, but oh well.  It was too late for that.

“I love it,” said Zayn at once. “It’s gorgeous. I can’t believe this.” He had tears in his eyes, Liam noticed, and Liam felt a lump rising in his own throat as well.

“You gonna say yes, then?” Liam asked, trying for a joke, but the words coming out completely serious.  Zayn stared at him incredulously.  

“You’re kidding, right?  You’re kidding.  Of course I will.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” muttered Liam, but Zayn grabbed his hand, staring him in the eye. 

“I’ll say yes,” he said.  “I swear it.  I promise you.” 

“Alright, calm down,” said Liam, trying to hide the emotion in his voice, “you’ve got years to wait.  Now I’ve gone and ruined the surprise, haven’t I?” 

“It’s alright,” Zayn said, voice a little choked. “I really – needed this. Thank you.”  

“No problem,” said Liam, slipping the box back into his pocket.  “I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t – I wasn’t sure. I’m pretty shite at picking out jewelry.”  He turned his head to look at Zayn and suddenly Zayn’s face was very close, upturned and smiling, hand on his knee. 

“Thank you,” he said again, and pressed a tentative kiss to the corner of Liam’s mouth.  

“Yeah,” said Liam softly, unable to stop himself from raising a hand to brush his bangs off Zayn’s forehead. It was an automatic gesture, a familiar motion, but clearly not for this Zayn.  Zayn stared at him, eyes soft and intent, biting his lower lip. 

“I love you,” he said finally. Firmly, like a declaration. “I love you, Liam.” 

“I love you too,” said Liam instinctively. 

“It feels really good to be able to say that,” said Zayn, smiling shyly at him.    

Again, Liam felt a pang of guilt, like he was taking away all of these first times from his past self.   Was that how this worked? Or when Zayn went back, would he not remember any of this?  Why wasn’t there some kind of manual for this? 

“It’s so weird,” Zayn continued, “it’s like – you’re still _you_ , but you’re different. I can’t believe you’re gonna marry me.”

“Believe it,” said Liam.  “Although you probably shouldn’t know that.” 

“It’s nice to know,” said Zayn softly. “It gives me – a lot of hope. For us.  So when do we finally get together?” 

“I’m not telling you that!” Liam shook his head, smiling.  “Stop asking me. Come on, don’t you want to maintain the mystery?”

“No,” said Zayn instantly, and Liam laughed. He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray, standing up and stretching. 

“Too bad.  I don’t know how this time travel stuff works, but I’m putting my foot down.”

“Fine,” said Zayn, smiling up at him. 

“I’m going back to bed,” said Liam. “D’you need anything, Zaynie?” 

“No,” Zayn said again, wrapping his arms around himself.  He looked very small, curled up on the lounge chair in Liam’s grey sweatshirt with the cuffs pulled down over his hands.  He was all thick hair and bird-thin wrists, legs crossed delicately beneath him. Liam felt another overwhelming wash of fondness. 

“Let me know if you do, okay?” he said, bending down and giving Zayn a kiss on the cheek.  It didn’t feel proper to kiss him on the mouth, for some reason, despite what had happened earlier.  This was Zayn, but at the same time, it wasn’t Zayn.  It was a different Zayn, somehow.  One he shouldn’t be able to touch but magically, inexplicably, could. Liam’s head hurt just trying to think about it. 

“Goodnight,” said Zayn.  

“You coming in?” Liam asked, pausing at the door. 

“No, I’m going to stay out here if you don’t mind. I’m really not tired. It’s only like two o’ clock in my year.”   

“Alright,” said Liam.  “Well wake me up if you need anything.  I’d say wake up the other Zayn, but – well, you know.”

“I know,” said Zayn, smiling. “We don’t like to get up.”

“Never have,” Liam agreed, smiling back. Zayn turned back toward the city as Liam slid the heavy glass door closed behind him.  Hopefully he could sleep. 

*** 

Liam couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up in the dark with a face pressed into his neck and a hot, wet mouth around his cock. 

“What—“ he mumbled sleepily, and Zayn – his Zayn, he thought, but he wasn’t sure – whispered, “It’s alright, love,” into his ear.  His hips surged forward of their own accord, responding to the tight heat surrounding his dick. 

“Oh my god…” 

His hands found Zayn’s hair, fluffy and short – so it was the younger Zayn, then – and Liam’s Zayn chuckled against his face. 

“He couldn’t sleep,” he said, hand wandering over Liam’s chest.  Liam could feel Zayn’s cock pressed hard against his side.  Zayn’s hand trailed down Liam’s body, fingers twisting into the younger Zayn’s hair as well, twining with Liam’s, pushing his younger self’s mouth down further onto Liam’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Liam groaned, as the younger Zayn sucked more enthusiastically.  It was almost too much, one Zayn between his legs and the other gently grinding against his hip, kissing his throat.  What a way to wake up.

“He wants you to fuck him,” said Zayn conversationally against Liam’s neck.  “He told me.” 

Liam tried to formulate a proper response, but words weren’t coming easily at the moment.  “I – I don’t think that’s –“ 

“I already told him you wouldn’t do it. But I did say he could watch you fuck me.”

He paused, and Liam could see his smile flash white and wicked in the darkness.  Around Liam’s cock, the younger Zayn moaned and Liam shuddered. “That is, if it’s okay with you.” 

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. Was this a dream? It seemed like a dream. Then the younger Zayn was crawling up his body, naked and smooth-skinned, pressing feather-light kisses to Liam’s chest.  “Please,” he said, voice thick and needy. 

Liam’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he watched open-mouthed as the two Zayn’s reached out to touch each other over Liam’s body, mouths crashing together. 

“Fuck,” he said aloud, unable to help it. It was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.  His Zayn, long hair sleep-mussed and shiny, eyes closed, long fingers wrapped around the chin of his younger self, directing the kiss.  The younger Zayn melted into it, opening his mouth to Zayn, moaning as Zayn bit his lower lip.   

“You like that?” mumbled Zayn against his younger self’s mouth.  

“Yeah,” said Liam, unable to stop staring as the two Zayns took each other’s clothes off.  Two lithe bodies, one tattooed, one smooth and unmarked.  Then Liam’s Zayn glanced down at him with a heavy-lidded look.

“You wanna fuck me, babe?” he asked, voice light and teasing, but his eyes were dark and desperate in the low light. Liam swallowed, hard, cock throbbing from watching this pornographic strip show taking place directly over his body. 

“Please,” he said.  

“That’s so hot,” said the younger Zayn wonderingly, staring down at Liam with such an intense, burning gaze that Liam had to look away. “How bad do you wanna fuck him?” 

The other Zayn was rummaging through the bedside table, grabbing lube and a condom, Liam guessed.  His brain felt a little fuzzy.  

“Bad,” he said.  Zayn kept staring down at him, mouth halfway open, licking his lips. He looked so _young._ But the look in his eyes was one that Liam knew well – love mixed with lust, wonderment and wild desire.  It hadn’t changed at all in the intermittent years.  Liam felt suddenly staggered that Zayn had felt this way for him even then – he found himself thinking, inappropriately, about the little box in his jacket pocket. 

But then Zayn – his Zayn – was pressed up against him, pulling the other Zayn down too, so they were pushed against Liam on either side, two sets of hands on his body.  Liam moaned, one of his arms trapped beneath young Zayn, groping older Zayn with the other one.  He couldn’t recall ever having been this turned on. 

“He always wants to fuck me bad,” said Zayn smugly, pulling Liam’s hand towards his ass.  “He wakes up every day practically begging for it.”  He didn’t need much prep – it was fast and messy, Zayn moaning and pushing back on Liam’s hand, while the other Zayn watched with undisguised hunger.  

“Here,” murmured older Zayn, tossing his younger self a condom.  “You do it. Put it on him.” 

Liam bit his lip, trying not to gasp as the younger Zayn rolled the condom onto his hard, aching cock.  Neither of them had touched him since the initial wake-up blowjob, and he honestly felt like he was about to explode.  He hoped he could last long enough to make Zayn come at least. The older Zayn watched with a little smile, eyes flicking up to Liam’s, like he knew exactly how Liam was feeling. Which he probably did. He had a knack for that. 

“Hands and knees,” Liam said, voice rougher than he intended.  Zayn bit his lip and complied, lining himself up in front of Liam.  Liam slid in easily, biting his lip to keep from groaning at the tightness. They gasped together, both Zayns, although the younger was just watching, on his knees next to them, stroking his own cock.  

“God,” said Liam through gritted teeth, holding onto Zayn’s hips for leverage.  Zayn buried his face in his arms as Liam fucked him, moaning loud and pornographic into the sheets. Liam tried desperately not to focus on it. Zayn always fucking did this – got Liam all spun up and then wondered teasingly aloud why Liam only lasted three minutes.  

Liam focused on the headboard, instead of the way Zayn’s swallow tattoo shone with sweat as the muscles in his back flexed and shifted.  He was pushing back onto Liam’s cock now, hands braced against the bed, moaning loud and shameless. The younger Zayn was jerking himself furiously, mouth open.

“Zayn,” said Liam, voice choked. He pointed to the younger one, gasping as the other Zayn threw back against him particularly hard. “Get in front of him. He’ll suck you off.”

Zayn – the older Zayn – moaned even louder when he heard this, and the younger Zayn scrambled shamelessly in front of him, cock hard and leaking.  Liam watched hungrily as his Zayn opened his mouth, hair falling over his eyes, tongue darting out pink and obscene.  The younger Zayn didn’t waste an instant, pushing his cock into his older self’s mouth as far as he could, moaning as Zayn swallowed him. 

“Fuck,” Liam swore, tearing his eyes away. He was gonna come soon, there was no escaping it.  He could feel it building in him like a tidal wave, watching Zayn’s cheeks hollow, eyes hidden by glossy hair.  The younger Zayn was tugging desperately at his hair, faced scrunched up in an expression Liam knew well.  

This was one of Zayn’s ultimate fantasies, Liam knew – being fucked and giving head at the same time, he got off on the thrill of it, and it pushed Liam that much further towards the edge to think about how much Zayn was probably enjoying this. 

He wrapped an arm around Zayn’s body, reaching for his cock.  Zayn made a strangled, muffled growl when he grabbed it, thrusting into Liam’s hand.

“Zayn,” said Liam, hair flopping over his forehead, vision blurring a little at the edges as he struggled to hold on. The younger Zayn was moaning louder than ever, hand fisted in his older self’s hair.  He locked eyes with Liam, dark and wild. 

“I’m gonna come,” he choked out, like he was asking permission, and Liam bit his lip. 

“Go ahead,” he whispered, and apparently that was all it took: Zayn thrust hard into his older self’s mouth, eyes screwed shut, gripping his hair painfully tight with a little shout.  Liam knew Zayn liked it rough like that; he was probably loving this. “Oh fuck yeah,” Liam whispered watching as Zayn pulled out of his older self’s mouth, panting, cum dripping over his fingers. 

“Please,” said older Zayn, in a low urgent tone, and Liam grabbed his cock again, stroking in time to his thrusts. He was working on autopilot, orgasm building stronger and stronger inside of him until he was pounding into Zayn, one hand on his hip and the other tight around his cock.  Zayn was clenching up around him, and his younger self was stroking his hair back from his face, tipping his chin up so Liam could see him. 

“Fuck!” Zayn gasped, voice strained, “Leeyum, please, god – I’m gonna –“ 

“Yeah baby, that’s it, come for me,” muttered Liam, blinking sweat out of his eyes.  The younger Zayn was staring at him again, but Liam barely noticed, so focused on the Zayn beneath him.  

“Yeah baby,” he said again, and Zayn was practically screaming.  Liam felt hot cum start to spurt over his hand, and he bit his lip hard enough to bleed. “Oh fuck Zayn,” he said, feeling a little woozy, vision tinged with black around the edges. They hadn’t fucked this hard in a long time.  It was overpowering, crushing, like being caught in a riptide, and Liam couldn’t think at all. Before he knew it, he was coming too, with both hands wrapped around Zayn’s hips hard enough to bruise. 

He slumped against Zayn in the dark, feeling the sweat on his skin, the comforting, musky scent of his body. 

“Fuck, I love you, Zayn,” he mumbled, face pressed to Zayn’s back. 

“I love you too,” came two voices, one from in front and one from the side.  Liam collapsed next to older Zayn, and the younger Zayn curled up against his shoulder.

“Gotta get cleaned up,” said Liam, making no effort to move. Zayn pulled the condom off of him and dropped it in the wastebasket next to the bed. 

“Cleanup done,” he announced. “I’m going back to bed. We can deal with it in the morning.”

“No,” Liam protested, but his eyes were already drooping.  From beside him, a very tiny voice, almost too softly to hear, said again: “I love you, Leeyum.” It was the last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep.  

*** 

Liam woke to birds chirping and bright stripes of sun across the white bedspread.  Zayn was sitting up cross-legged beside him, swamped in an oversized black t-shirt, and holding his favorite mug – the big patchwork pottery one Liam had bought him in Cannes – in both hands. 

“Morning,” said Liam, dragging a hand across his eyes. That’s when he realized – it was just the two of them.  “Is he –“

“Gone,” said Zayn.  His voice sounded a little off, just slightly too quiet. “I don’t know when it happened. I woke up a little while ago and he’s vanished again.” 

Liam struggled into a sitting position. So that was that, then. Young Zayn had disappeared. It was almost like it had never even happened.  

“So everything’s back to normal?” he asked. Zayn didn’t answer. He was giving Liam kind of a weird look, actually.  Soft and strange, head cocked in that way that normally meant he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.  

“You alright?” Liam asked, slightly concerned, reaching across the blankets to touch his knee.  

“Yeah,” said Zayn.  He set the mug of tea on the bedside table.  “It’s just – I remember now, don’t I?”

“What do you mean?  Remember what?” 

“Everything,” Zayn said softly, still gazing at Liam with that odd, tender glimmer in his eyes.  Liam realized they were full of tears.  “When I woke up, I just – it was all there, in my head. Being here, playing games, kissing you – talking to you on the porch –“ He swallowed, ducking his head and wiping a hand over his eyes.

“Zayn,” said Liam, reaching out for him. He thought he knew where this was headed.  His heart pounded, throat dry. Zayn clutched his forearms, eyes thick-lashed and overbright. 

“Leeyum, you were gonna – you were gonna propose?”

“Still am,” said Liam, voice choked, giving him a little smile.  “If – if you want me to.” 

“Of course I want you to,” said Zayn softly, staring up at him.  

“You’re gonna make me do it proper, then?” Liam teased, kissing him on the forehead. 

“Please,” whispered Zayn.  Liam swallowed, staring down at him.  Zayn was looking up shyly at him through his lashes, a lovely little smile on his face.  The rush of love Liam felt almost overwhelmed him, and he grabbed both of Zayn’s hands, pressing down with his thumbs.  

“Zayn Malik,” he said, trying not to let his voice wobble.  Zayn blinked up at him, tears still unshed in his eyes.  “I don’t – I’m not prepared for this!  I forget my speech!”

Zayn laughed, squeezing his hands back, a tear running down his cheek.  “I don’t need a speech.”

“Too bad, you’re getting one,” said Liam, gazing at him.  “You’re – you’re the love of my life, you deserve a proper proposal speech.”  His heart swelled and swelled as he talked, making it difficult to speak.  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  I’m – I –“ he struggled to remember it, the lines he’d whispered to himself five thousand times in the past few days, but the words stuck in his throat.  “I have a lot to say, I can’t remember half of it.”

“That’s okay,” Zayn murmured, still staring at Liam like he couldn’t believe this was real.  

“I want – Zayn, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Making you happy. Because you make me so, _so_ happy.  I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” said Zayn.  His eyes were very wide, dark and clear, the most beautiful thing Liam had ever seen.

“Zayn.  Will you marry me?” 

Even though he was relatively certain what Zayn’s answer would be, the question still sparked a mild panic in Liam’s brain. But Zayn was climbing into his lap, pressing his face to Liam’s neck, lips against his throat, laughing and crying at the same time.  

“I already told you,” said Zayn, voice muffled against Liam’s neck.  “I swore it. I promised you. God.”

“God,” Liam agreed, hugging him. He felt a slow, dopey smile spreading across his face.  It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember his speech, it didn’t matter that the fancy candles he’d bought were still wrapped up in the other room, it didn’t matter that none of this was what he’d planned.  Zayn said yes.  They were gonna get married. 

“Follow up question,” he said, ignoring the tears on his cheeks, “will you change your name to Zayn Payne?”

“Absolutely not,” said Zayn, laughing. 

“You won’t take my name?” said Liam, laughing too, helpless giggles that just kept coming.  He felt giddy, childlike.  “Rude.”

“Not unless you change yours to Liam Malik,” said Zayn. “Let’s just switch.”

“Liam Malik,” said Liam thoughtfully. “It’s got a nice ring to it.” 

“It flows,” Zayn agreed. 

“Nothing compared to Zayn Payne, though.”

“I’m sorry Leeyum,” said Zayn, smiling. “I’ll marry you today, if you want, but I’m not having a fucking nursery rhyme name.  Listen.  I’m an icon, now. I’m a brand.”

“You’re _Zayn Payne_ ,” said Liam, and they both burst into giggles. No, this wasn’t anything like he’d planned – he’d bought the candles, he made a special playlist, he was going to _videotape it_ – but somehow, it was even better.  Just the two of them in the bright bedroom, clutching each other and laughing like children. He felt so happy he might drown in it.

Harley nosed through the half open door with a little whine.  “Hi,” said Liam, still giggly. Taking that as an invitation, she bounded across the room and leapt onto the bed.  

“No,” warned Zayn, but without feeling. Harley turned around in a tight circle and fell heavily onto the bed next to them, tail thumping against Liam’s knee. 

“I think she’s trying to congratulate us,” said Liam.

“She’s trying to get told off,” said Zayn, but he scratched her absently behind the ears anyway.  “So where’s my ring?” 

“I thought you remembered,” teased Liam. “It’s in my jacket. Shall I get it?”

“If you want to make this a proper proposal,” said Zayn with a funny little smile.  His eyes looked a bit strange again, thoughtful, as he watched Liam extract himself from dog and blanket. 

“Alright,” said Liam.   “Fine, I’ll get it.  My demanding fiancé.” 

“Wait ‘til we start planning the wedding,” Zayn teased, watching Liam slip on a t-shirt.  “Then you’ll see how demanding I can be.”  

Liam padded out into the living room, looking for his jacket.  He’d left near the sliding glass door, but it was on the back of the armchair now. He reached into the pocket, pulling out the little box.  To his surprise, it was slightly open, with a corner of paper sticking out of it. 

He opened it curiously.  A little folded-up square of paper was wedged inside. TOLD YOU I’D SAY YES :) was scrawled in ballpoint pen.  Liam laughed, amazed, snapping the box shut.  

“Zayn,” he called, surprised tears springing to his eyes, “Zayn, what the hell? I can’t believe you’ve done this.” 

“I love you!” called Zayn from the other room. “Did you like my note? What does it say? I can’t remember!”

“It says ‘I want to give you a blowjob!’” said Liam, walking back into the room.  Zayn was still sitting on the bed with Harley sprawled across his lap now, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed.

“It does not,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I know it doesn’t say that. Let me see that.” 

Liam opened the box, and Zayn’s eyes lit up as he saw the ring.  “Wow,” he said softly. “It’s – god, Leeyum. It’s even nicer than I remembered.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” said Liam, heart doing a little cartwheel in his chest.  How many times had he imagined this moment?  It was virtually nothing like he’d expected, but somehow that was okay. “Here, try it on.”

He slipped the ring onto Zayn’s finger. To his relief, it was a perfect fit – he’d nicked one of Zayn’s rings a few months ago to get the size right, but he’d still been worried about it.  

“God,” said Zayn softly, admiring the way it looked on his finger.  He glanced up at Liam, eyes wide and reverent.  “I love it. It’s perfect.” 

“You cried when I showed it to you,” said Liam. “Last night.  Or like – five years ago, I guess?  Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” said Zayn softly.  “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to see this ring again, to be honest.”    

“So you –“ Liam started, not sure how to voice what he wants to say.  “Like, this whole time – you’ve known?  I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t understand either,” said Zayn, eyes on Harley, who had fallen asleep in his lap.  The ring shone black and elegant around his finger, and Liam felt a glimmer of pride.  “I woke up, and I just – remember everything.  Are your memories different?” 

“Not at all,” said Liam.  “At least, I don’t think so.  But you’ve – all this time, then?  All these years?  You’ve known about us?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn said softly.  He patted the bed next to him, and Liam flopped down onto it, head spinning with confusion, giddy joy.  “I guess that’s why I never gave up.  Even when it seemed hopeless.  I remembered this.  I remembered you showing me that ring with this look in your eyes, like – god.  Just so full of love.  For me.  It got me through some of the hardest nights, to be honest.”

“Wow,” said Liam, touched.  “I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me if I told you,” said Zayn. 

“Fair point.” 

“It’s weird,” said Zayn.  “I have such clear memories of it all now. Like, remember yesterday, in the kitchen, when we were talking about this?  I remember that, too.  But now I just also – I remember being here.  And I remember going back.”

“What happened?” Liam asked.  “After you got back?” 

“Nothing,” said Zayn, laughing. “I woke up in my bed at the X-Factor house.  You woke me up, actually, because we had to go to a rehearsal.  I was so startled to see you that I almost fell out of bed. You kept giving me weird looks and asking if I was okay.”

With a start, Liam realized that he remembered it too – the memory came to him sudden and vivid, Zayn wide-eyed and stuttering, waking up far too quickly, staring at Liam like he’d never seen him before. The rehearsal had been a mess. Harry and Lou unable to stop antagonizing each other, Niall constantly on his phone, Zayn missing every other cue.

“We ate dinner together,” he said slowly. “That night.  Just us.”

“Yep, so you do remember,” said Zayn. He grimaced.  “You told me you’d asked out Danielle.” 

“I’m sorry,” Liam said, remembering it as he spoke, “wow. What shitty timing.” 

“It was pretty brutal,” Zayn agreed. He shrugged, smiling at Liam. “Everything worked out in the end though.”

“It did,” Liam said, reaching to kiss him on the nose. “Well, as much as I love you, I’m glad I only have to deal with you one at a time now.” 

“Until it happens again.”

“Don’t even say that,” Liam groaned. “Please.”

“I’m glad it happened, at any rate,” said Zayn softly. He leaned over and caught Liam’s lips in a soft kiss, hand coming up to cup the side of his face. Liam sighed into the kiss, eyes slipping shut. 

“We thought it was going to mess things up,” Zayn said, pulling back a little.  His eyes were very close, warm and deep.  “Instead, I think it – it kind of proved this to me, you know? That we’re – meant to be.”

“Soulmates,” said Liam quietly. He thought of young Zayn on the porch, gazing up at him with that mixture of love, trust, and heartbreaking confusion.

“Yeah.” 

They stared at each other for a minute, Liam completely lost in the dark swirl of Zayn’s eyes.  Then Zayn laughed.

“We’re being horrible again, aren’t we.”

“Yes,” Liam agreed.  “Insufferably.” 

“Alright, let’s call people.  We need to go public with this dorkiness. Who should we tell first?”

“I don’t care,” said Liam, heart full, a heavy, warm feeling settling over his entire body like he’d never felt before in his life. It was a feeling of utter contentment, bliss, a certainty that he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Ruth it is, then,” said Zayn. “I’m going to tell her you cried.”

“I’m gonna tell her _you_ said we’re soulmates.” 

“You said it too!  You said it right back to me!”  

“Still really dorky,” said Liam, but he’s smiling.  

“You love it,” said Zayn, giving him a playful little shove. “You want to spend the rest of your life with it.”

“I do,” said Liam, catching his hand and linking their fingers.  He thought of young Zayn, staring at the ring with wonder in his eyes.  Current Zayn watched him with a mixture of humor and love, and Liam was struck suddenly by how much they’d been through together. How much love they’d shared, and how much was still yet to come.  “I really do.”


End file.
